Christmas Conversions: A Reasonable Doubts Prequel
by Gowdie
Summary: (LOGAN/ROGUE) A holiday glimpse of how Logan and Rogue's relationship has evolved during the three years prior to the beginning of Reasonable Doubts. Complete!
1. The First Christmas

Title: Christmas Conversions - A Reasonable Doubts Prequel   
Author: Gowdie  
Summary: A holiday glimpse of how Logan and Rogue's relationship has evolved during the three years prior to the beginning of Reasonable Doubts.   
Category: Logan and Rogue romance.   
Rating: PG13 for language and amorous wishful thinking.   
Archive: Everyone who has Reasonable Doubts. WRFA please take off of WR beta. Everyone else I will send you the full text as a single unit once all three sections are posted.   
Disclaimer: Unless extreme amounts of giddiness and laughter have recently been declared material gains, then no I am not profiting from this story since I clearly do not own these characters.  
Feedback: Yes please! I promise to say thank you!   
  
Thanks: I have said this before, but I truly want to thank everyone who has read RD and suffered such a horribly long wait. Everyone who hasn't kicked me to the curb deserves, well, a lot more than I am giving them. I hope my gratitude can be enough. Thanks to Diebin and Donna for still being my friends even when I haven't been around much lately. Thanks to Nancy, for being her deliciously crazy self and sharing pictures of cute boys during the rough times. Once again, thanks to Narla for being my beta and keeping my dirty secret from Roomie. Thanks to Roomie, since I suspect she might suspect, but has never said the words "I know what you do on your computer at night!" out loud. May she never read this.   
  
Author Notes: Yeah, you don't have to tell me, this is not what you were hoping for. I will say it one more time: I suck. I am sorry. There is no excuse. Well, I had excuses; I wrote exams, I moved, I had surgery on my ass and couldn't sit down for a few weeks, but all that has passed its expiration date I think. I know you want part four. I want part four. But this was in my head first. Sorry dudes. Blame all the people who said the flashbacks were their favorite parts of the story. I decided to write a whole unit of flashbacks. I will work on part four next. I swear. It will be finished. It will be worth it. Please just hang in there a little bit longer.  
  
When to read this in relationship to Reasonable Doubts: I HIGHLY recommend you read at least part one of RD first. That part outlines where their respective head's are and when Logan comes around. It also includes the infamous dog tag exchange. This story merely stops in at the three Christmases along the way. It assumes you know why at Christmas number two Logan is still an idiot and at Christmas number three he and Rogue are at opposite ends of the relationship spectrum.   
  
Note to PETS: Dudes, I'm not scared of you anymore, cause the more I write him, the more I lurv him.  
  
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The First Christmas  
  
Time line - 7 months past movie, 1 month after Logan's return, 2 years and 5 months before the weird surgical glove wearing sex debacle.   
  
What does this timing mean? While Logan cares more for Marie than anyone else in the world, he is still suffering from lusty feelings for Jean. Translation: He was never very good at math.  
  
  
Rogue knocked on the hard wood for the second time. "Logan?" No response. Cripes, why wasn't he up yet? She gingerly poked her head in the door. He was sprawled on his back, sheet at his waist revealing a bare chest. Interesting. Standing just inside, "Logan? Come on, get up."   
  
He seemed to sniff at the air then all of a sudden he sprung up to a seated position. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on her. "Kid? Jesus. What is it?"  
  
Rogue pointed behind her, as if that would provide an explanation. "It's, it's Christmas."  
  
A nonplused, "Oh." He rubbed his face, then the back of his head.  
  
Still slightly pointing in the desired direction, out the door, "We're supposed to go downstairs."  
  
Rogue was relieved to see he was apparently going to oblige when he turned sideways and put his feet on the floor. He looked at the clock, it was just after seven. "Now?"  
  
"Yes." He stood up. Boxers. Too bad.   
  
Logan absently scratched his bare stomach and gave in. "Okay, just a second, I need to get dressed."  
  
"No wait! You're supposed to go down in your pajamas." They both took a moment to look at the boxers he was wearing. "Okay, so maybe an exception can be made in your case. But you at least have to wear something pajama-like."  
  
He frowned at her. "Pajama-like?"  
  
"It's the tradition."  
  
He sighed. "Fine, will track pants and a t-shirt do?"  
  
"Can they at least be green?"  
  
A definitive, "No."  
  
She grumbled, "Fine."   
  
Marie continued to stand by the door, anxiously shifting her weight from one foot to the other while Logan stumbled around, gathering his clothes. "Could you at least sit down or something, you're making me nervous." With an exaggerated scoffing noise Marie plopped down on the bed and started swinging her feet. Finally finding an acceptable pair of track pants Logan turned to the excited girl, "I'm gonna put these on and shave. I'll just be a minute."  
  
"No!" She jumped off the bed. "No shaving! We need to hurry up and get down there."  
  
He stood his ground. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
Eyes wide Rogue waved him toward the bathroom. "Nothing! Can you please just hurry. I don't want to miss anything." That and she was going to just about die if she didn't get to open up his present soon. It felt like she had been waiting forever.  
  
  
It was two weeks earlier.   
  
Somehow it had become their ritual to spend the two hours between the last class of the day and dinner, together in her room. Rogue would take her place on her bed, surrounded by notebooks and texts and work away at whatever homework she had. Logan sat in her desk chair, feet (sans dusty boots) propped up on the bed by hers. While she studied, he would read.   
  
It occurred to Rogue that if she hadn't taken the magical mystery tour through Logan's memories she might have been surprised in his choice of recreational literature. He mostly stuck to books by people long dead and buried. The few times she had caught him with something "modern" in his hands they had still been rather hard hitters like "Catcher in the Rye" and "The English Patient" which he insisted was much better than the pansy ass film. She didn't think anyone else was privy to this facet of his personality and she reveled in the fact she was the only one allowed in on the secret. Well, except for maybe Scott. A couple of times when no one else was around, Logan had dropped some appropriate quote or passage into the conversation. He pulled it off so casually Rogue didn't think she would have noticed except for the formality of the language. One time after Scott had left she gave Logan a questioning glance. He just smiled and said, "Have to keep old One Eye on his toes. Wouldn't want him to start judging people by appearances."  
  
Rogue didn't think Scott, of all people, ever would. She told him, "I think he is judging by your carefully crafted reputation, not your belt buckle, Logan."  
  
He shrugged, "Whatever." A pause. "Hey, just what the hell is wrong with my buckle?"  
  
On this particular day though, while sitting in her room, Logan had finished his book early. That was when he started rummaging.   
  
It started innocently enough. With a huge sigh he closed his novel and tossed it on the bed. Bored, he sat still for a few minutes, arms crossed in front of him and just looked around. It occurred to him he had never really taken in his surroundings before. He had been in this room almost every day, but he had just accepted it rather than appreciate the details. He pondered each poster individually and tried to measure how it fit into Marie's personality. Rogue noticed his intense gaze, but decided against interrupting his scrutiny. That was when he grunted, "I've seen that one before."   
  
Rogue looked up at the poster he indicated. It was the black and white of the shirtless man holding the baby. She practically snorted, "Yeah, well it's pretty popular."  
  
He frowned at her. "Why?"  
  
"Pfft. Big strong man holding a little tiny baby, it's like every girl's fantasy."  
  
He kind of smirked. "Is it yours?"   
  
"Ha! Which part?" He just stared at her. She mumbled down into her book, "Yeah you're right, I probably want both."  
  
He simply nodded, then pushed with his feet and rolled over to her desk. Item by item he went over the entire desk and the shelves above it. Occasionally he would pick an object up and examine it more closely. A few times he asked where something came from, but mostly he was happy being left to his own devices. The more he looked, the more his boredom grew into genuine curiosity. Ah, jewelry box, wonder what she keeps inside. Ah, jewelry, makes sense, but wonder why kind of jewelry. And on he went.  
  
For her part, Rogue kept an eye on him, but she was happy to let him forage to his heart's content. The fact that Logan was finding her stuff this fascinating would be a source of secret pleasure for days. It did feel a little like he was walking through her brain, but really, she was relieved he was taking his turn. Their relationship was slightly unbalanced. She knew so much about him and he knew essentially nothing about her. She would tell him anything if he asked and she was pretty sure he understood that, it was just, neither of them knew where to start exactly.  
  
He moved on to her dresser. Rogue racked her brain for a moment, then relaxed when she remembered all the really embarrassing girl stuff was safe in the bathroom. The first drawer was mainly gloves and scarves. He picked up a pair offhandedly and muttered, "I like these ones." Rogue gave a nonchalant nod, but made sure to register: note to self, wear burgundy gloves whenever humanly possible.   
  
He reached for the second drawer and her brain suddenly screamed, oh oh oh! Underwear drawer! Underwear drawer! Alert! Alert! He opened it. Her whole body tensed. The freaking bastard, neither shock nor interest appeared to cross his features. The most she could possibly read off his face at that moment was maybe, "Hm, socks and underwear, check." She glared back down at her book and made a slight humph noise; he didn't seem to notice that either.  
  
Finished with the dresser he stood in the middle of the room looking at little lost. Still perturbed by the non-incident with her underwear she certainly wasn't about to help him out and just kept reading. That was when he got down on his hands and knees and started pulling things out from under her bed. She looked down at him and almost laughed, he had crawled right under there and his ass was sticking up and out. Man, the guy just never did anything half way.  
  
He snagged something of particular interest, emerged lightly covered in dust and waved a magazine in front of her face. "What is this?"  
  
Ack! Totally calm and cool, "It's my Victoria Secret catalogue."  
  
He stood and started flipping through the pages, eyes narrowed in confusion. "Isn't this the kind of thing I should find a boy's room?"  
  
She made a scoffing noise. "Not unless the boy likes to mail order ladies' underwear."  
  
He looked at her and frowned. "You like to mail order your underwear?"  
  
Quietly, "Sometimes." He was still frowning. "It makes me feel pretty." His expression didn't change. "What? Just because no one is ever gonna see it means I'm not allowed to wear it?" Was he ever going to stop looking at her like that? "What? Would you have me wear cotton granny underwear for the rest of my life like some asexual reject?" She sat up and waved her arms around. "What? WHAT?!"  
  
"I never said anything Marie."  
  
Rogue thumped back against the headboard and made a sound of disgust. Logan sat down calmly and continued turning the pages. He was really going to do it. He was really going to sit there and look at pictures of scantily clad women in front of her. Her embarrassment started to turn to rage.   
  
For his part, Logan was just trying to assimilate the startling new information that Marie, MARIE, spent time worrying about lingerie. That was until he landed on a rather distinctive ensemble. He paused for a moment, then tilted his head and grinned. "Huh."  
  
Rogue couldn't take it anymore. She leapt off the bed and stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. "Jesus Logan, what am I? Your dealer?"  
  
He looked up at her confused. "What?" Then with an evil glint, "No, I was just thinking maybe I'd found a Christmas present."  
  
She snatched the offending object from his hands and glanced down at the open page. A red lace teddy was being modeled by ... wait for it ... a woman with long dark red hair. She rolled up the magazine and used it to point at the door. "Get the hell out of my room."  
  
He spread his hands innocently. "What?"  
  
Whap! Rogue hit him on the head with the magazine and startled, he jumped to his feet. "I can sure as hell tell you don't mean for me and I swear to God, if you did give this to her and Scott didn't blow a hole in your side, I would suck you dry!" Whap! She hit him again which produced the desired effect of him starting to back from the room, his arms in front of his face in defense. "Get out of my room. This is MY room for Christ's sake. I don't need to be listening to this is MY room. Get out!" Whap! Whap!  
  
Logan retreated. He had to retreat. Well, he couldn't very well hit her back could he? He might have snatched the magazine away, but he was too busy processing the fact that someone was actually hitting him, with a woman's periodical of all things. Finally, having been driven to the hall, Logan lowered his hands and demanded, "Can't you even see the humour in it?"  
  
"No!" Slam.  
  
"Marie? Oh for crying out loud kid, it was a joke." And it was. He would never seriously give such a thing to Jean.   
  
Okay, so the first thought that had run through his head upon seeing the picture was just what Jean would look like wearing the delicious scraps of silk ... and then what she would look like as they slowly slid off her. But he had been sitting in a small room with Marie after all, as opposed to the privacy of his own shower, so he had quickly shifted gears and imagined the hysterical expression on Scott's face as Jean opened such a gift. In all honesty, when he had made the comment, he had been amusing himself with the image of Summers' spontaneous combustion.   
  
However, even despite the hours of entertainment at Scott's expense he still wouldn't actually do it. Jean and Logan had come to a silent understanding. Silent because he had cut her off rather than allow her to embarrass him by spelling it out, but it was an understanding none the less. She had made it clear that despite any existing attraction, it wasn't going to happen. Her tone had also indicated it was time for him to back down, or otherwise things would become uncomfortable. To sum up, playful flirting was allowed, but serious gestures would be in breach of the understanding. And even if Jean realized he was goading old One Eye rather than courting her, he still suspected he would be crossing a very important line with her tolerance. There was a definitive difference between teasing Scooter with the possible attraction and making the suggestion access had actually been granted. Apparently all of these subtleties were lost on Marie.   
  
He could hear the distinct sounds of tidying from the other side of the door. He could practically see her moving about the room, putting everything he had touched back in its proper place. "Jesus kid, just how big an insensitive prick do you think I am?"  
  
The movement stopped for a moment. "Right now Logan, you do not want me to answer that."  
  
With a sigh he rested his head against the hard wood. He was not an insensitive prick. He really wasn't. Well at least with Marie he wasn't, because even if he had been serious about the gift, he could think of another fifty reasons not to mention it so callously in front of her.  
  
First, there was the issue of the possible crush. Though honestly Logan wasn't sure that was much of an issue at all anymore. Jean had told him Marie was taken with him. He hadn't really taken her that seriously, but then when Marie asked if he was running again, he could see it in her eyes. If he wasn't mistaken, what he had seen looked a bit like adoration. If he hadn't felt his insides wrench at the realization he was actually going to miss someone, he might have been amused. Sure women liked him, but no one had ever adored him before. He wasn't convinced he was adoring material. However, when he came back, that look was gone. Oh she seemed plenty happy and excited to see him, but he could no longer catch any telltale signs of a crush. Over the last few weeks she had acted like any normal warm woman who understood and cared about him and was delighted to have him around. Not that he had a lot to compare to, but he assumed that is what she acted like. However, just in case he was an idiot, or in case Marie was some method-acting wizard, he wasn't about to brandish his feelings for Jean in front of her. He was dealing with the fact Jean was relegated to fantasy, there was no need to hurt Marie with the residue.   
  
Then there was the deadly skin issue. Charles had said Maire may be incapable of human contact for her entire life. Now while Logan didn't think that was entirely true, Marie was still young enough he didn't feel comfortable expounding on his theories just yet. He could just imagine it, "Yeah, so I was thinking, if you and that Bobby kid want to get it on you could try ..." Logan wasn't sure, but he was pretty suspicious that was the kind of thing that could get his ass kicked all the way back to the Rockies. And he wasn't convinced either of them would survive such a conversation. He would have to pace and stutter a lot and Marie would probably hide under the bed and then not be able to face him for a week. In the meantime, until Marie found her own sexuality, Logan wasn't going to go waving his under her nose. That was why Logan had instituted his "never in the mansion" policy. Not that he'd had opportunity to invoke the policy since he'd been back, but he tried not to think about that too much. To Marie, physical intimacy was everything, he be damned if he made her watch him treat sex casually. Friends just didn't pull that kind of shit with each other.   
  
Logan decided to try a different, more practical tactic. "Kid, I don't even have my boots. I'm in my sock feet out here."  
  
"You're a big tough man, suck it up."  
  
He groaned a little and tapped his head against the wood. A low sincere voice, "Okay kid, I give. What exactly do I have to do to be allowed back inside?"  
  
There was a pause as Rogue considered. She didn't have to think about what it was she wanted from him. She wanted some sign, any indication, that he thought about her for even a fraction of the amount of time he spent thinking about Jean. But she knew she couldn't be completely honest, that would just make her sound lovelorn and desperate. She searched for a way to convey the main idea without the direct comparison. Well, he called her kid anyway, she decided she might as well use it to her advantage for a change. "Maybe, if you actually spent two minutes thinking about my present, maybe, maybe I would let you in."  
  
A smug grin took over Logan's face as he proudly declared, "Well then open the door kid; I picked up your gift months ago."   
  
The door cracked an inch and curious brown eyes peeked through. "You bought my present months ago?"  
  
Hands in his pockets he leaned back on his heels. "Yup."  
  
She still wanted clarification. "On the road?"  
  
A slight nod, grin still in place. "Yup."  
  
He said it like it was obvious, but to Rogue the implications were huge. Logan had been deeply emerged in his quest to find his own identity. Somehow in the middle of that failed obsession, he had spared some time to think of her. Gentle thoughts on something that would make her happy. Trying to conceal her obvious glee, she opened the door wide. Then another teasing thought occurred to her. "Wait a second." She raised a hand to stop him. "You mean you carried my present around in your duffel bad with all your stinky unmentionables?"  
  
Knowing he was about to score extra points he simply responded, "Well, I had to keep it from breaking somehow didn't I?"  
  
She froze. A high voice, "My present is breakable?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Very."   
  
Logan sauntered past Marie with a smirk. When he reached the chair he turned to her, raised his eyebrow even higher and sat pointedly on the bed. He leaned back against the headboard, swung his legs up and interlocked his hands behind his head, all with an expression which just dared her to say anything.  
  
Rogue crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Sitting."  
  
"Oh really." Great, just great, now what was she supposed to do? The bed was her place. He knew that. In fact the cocky grin plastered on the bastard's face implied that this whole routine was precisely about taking her place. It felt like a challenge. Blech. If she sat in the chair, did that say she didn't want to sit with him? Or worse, did it reveal just how awkward sitting on a bed with him would feel, because she liked him? At the same time, snuggling up next to him certainly wasn't the right answer. Or was it? That would show being next to him was no big deal at all; perfectly comfortable and buddy like. Obviously his lap had to be vetoed. Too bad. Man, sometimes being a girl really sucked, way too much thinking involved.   
  
Okay, compromise. Rogue carefully eased herself on the bed and sat cross-legged by his feet. Not really looking at him, "I'm kinda surprised. I didn't think you would plan for Christmas, especially not that far in advance."  
  
"Why?"  
  
A shrug. "I don't know. I didn't think that you... I mean..." Rogue picked at the pink checkered quilt and hazarded a glance up at him. "Well, okay, what did you used to do for Christmas?"  
  
He smirked, "I thought you knew everything."  
  
Nice teasing, good, that meant he wasn't offended. Rogue rolled her eyes, "I don't know everything. It's kinda like I got an overview, the big picture, with the important details, but not everything. Like I know you prefer steak and eggs for breakfast, but I can't tell you what you actually had on any particular day." She looked back down and continued pulling at imaginary threads. "So, you used to acknowledge Christmas?"  
  
Man he could just about kill for a beer, this conversation had taken a serious turn for the sad and pathetic. He didn't know how to put an end to it without sounding defensive. "It's rather hard not to notice a day when the rest of the world shuts down."  
  
Damn appearances. She crawled down the bed to sit next to him, under his arm. She thought it would be easy, she would fit naturally on the first try, but her shoulders were way too high and his arm pressed on her neck, bending her head down. She had to wriggle around a bit, slowly scooting down inch by inch, till she finally found a position where she was comfortable, head against his chest, arm around his stomach. Somewhat amused, he just let her experiment with the new arrangement until she finally settled. He wrapped his arms about her.  
  
"So what would you do?"  
  
She felt as well as heard his sigh. "Hole up in some hotel room with a six-pack and watch 'It's a Wonderful Life' on the tv."  
  
She tried to crane her neck around to look at him. "Why did I never figure you for a Jimmy Stewart fan?"  
  
He snorted. "Kid, when my choices are church services, cartoon Santas and five versions of Scrooge, which are all boring as hell, I pick Jimmy."   
  
Quietly, "I'm glad you made it back in time, so you could be here."  
  
"Aw, it wasn't all that bad. I might actually kinda miss him." And this was precisely the moment he would take a long drag on that cold beer he didn't have. Damn.  
  
"I mean for me too. Last year was awful, it was the only time I actually went to a shelter." He squeezed a little tighter. "This will be my first Christmas with my new family, so I'm glad you're here."   
  
  
Two weeks. Two weeks she had waited to get her hands on that mysterious breakable present and now he was taking his bloody time. Rogue pounded on the bathroom door. "Aren't you ready yet? You're being worse than a girl!"  
  
Logan slowly opened the door. Okay, so he had been waiting for her to yell at him, but the girl comment was pushing it. "There's not going to be more singing is there?"  
  
She gave a disgusted scoff, grabbed his hand and attempted to drag his immovable weight from the room. "No! They only do carols on Christmas Eve. This is strictly presents and breakfast. Now let's go!"   
  
Standing firm he narrowed his eyes and asked, "How do you know so much?"  
  
Rogue gave up on the pulling, squeezed past him through the door and attempted to push from the other side. "Logan, it's my first Christmas at the mansion, I have done my research. Now can we please go?!"  
  
After a complex struggle of pushing and dragging Rogue finally managed to haul Logan out of his room and partway down the hallway. If she had given up, he would have walked on his own, but he was glad she didn't, nearly driving her to exasperation was way more fun.   
  
All of sudden he became dead weight. When Rogue turned to him, he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her up against the wall. Even as he moved to her side, giving an air of casualness, his hard look and firm hand remained, silently signaling her not to move. Confused as to why the game was suddenly over, she softly asked, "What?"  
  
Just then Scott and Jean came around the corner behind them. Jean immediately gave a beaming smile and greeted, "Logan, Rogue, Merry Christmas!"   
  
Rogue was about to respond, but Logan spoke first. "Jean. Mr. Jean."  
  
Scott considered a reply but instead opted to look at Logan, give a pointed smile and nod to Rogue, and then turn back to the other man with a huge grin. When a quiet growl slipped from the Wolverine's throat he figured he had made his point. The nature of the relationship of the pair might be a complete mystery, but to Scott Summers it was at least very clear he was not the only man in the mansion wrapped around a delicate finger.   
  
Seemingly oblivious to the exchange, Jean continued, "You two are headed downstairs aren't you?"  
  
Finally Logan removed his hand from Rogue's shoulder to cross his arms. "Oh, I'm sure we'll get there eventually."  
"Oh," another smile, "well you want to get a move on. I'm sure Rogue doesn't want to miss the presents. We'll see you down there." And the couple moved on.  
  
Once they were alone again, Rogue slumped against the wall, sighed and asked with an utterly miserable expression, "Why are you doing this to me?"  
  
"Well kid, a man's got to make his own fun and right now, you're the best show in town."  
  
She turned to look him right in the eye. "Someday, somehow, I will have power over you and you will beg and plead and I will laugh."  
  
A confident smirk. "I don't see it."  
  
She glared, grabbed his hand, uttered, "I hate you," and once again started to pull.  
  
Once they arrived Rogue joined her friends sitting on the floor. For his part, Logan decided to observe the ruckus from the edge; close enough to appear involved, but far enough away not to lose his mind, or get hit in the head with a stray ball of wrapping. Also, the straight back chair he was sitting in allowed him to move further away if necessary.   
  
Amidst the furor of flying paper, Rogue found Logan's present. It was easily identifiable enough, being the only one addressed to "Marie" in block lettering. She also managed to intercept hers to him. She set the two aside to save till last. Once everything else was opened and thank you's exchanged she picked up the two gifts and made her way over to him. "You got Jean a red silk scarf huh? That is better than lingerie I suppose."  
  
Logan crossed his arms. "Yeah and I gave Ororo a blue one, so I don't think Summers can find an excuse to blow any holes in me."  
  
Rogue mock glared at him. "You realize that is my look you are farming out there?"  
  
"Maybe I thought the ladies could take a lesson from you. You got some sort of patent on it?"  
  
"Trademark."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
A pause as she looked awkwardly about the room. "So."  
  
"So," he agreed. "You gonna pull up a chair or stand there all day?"  
  
"Right." Rogue handed the two gifts over to him to retrieve a chair. Once she was sitting facing him, she snatched hers away again. Practically cradling her present in her arms she nodded at him, "You first."  
  
Logan began to remove the plain forest green paper. After he tore the first strip away he was greeted with what was starting to look suspiciously like a powder blue t-shirt. He raised an eyebrow at Marie.  
  
Total innocence, "What?" Okay, the explanation behind the eight dollar tee was the simple need to conceal the video hiding inside. A wrapped video is quite obviously a wrapped video. However the reason it was powder blue was Rogue's personal sense of humour rearing it's precocious head. That and finding out whether Logan would wear such a garment because she had given it to him would make a very interesting science experiment.   
  
Finally, paper removed, hideous tee unrolled, Logan found the real gift. "'It's a Wonderful Life'?"  
  
"I thought, maybe this year, we could watch it together." A pause. "After the big breakfast and other group stuff and the turkey dinner of course. But maybe then, we could do this thing of yours?"  
  
Logan looked at the girl who was clearly demonstrating her interest to share in both his past and his future. "Yeah." He returned his gaze back to the box and ran his fingers over the shiny surface. After a few moments he realized Marie was still just sitting, watching him. He gave her a small smile. "It's your turn."  
  
Rogue removed her gloves so she could carefully slide a finger under the tape. She didn't want to tear the paper. Wrapping removed and folded, she slowly opened the medium sized box. She parted the tissue and lifted out the heavy object inside with both hands. A perfect glass globe on an old fashioned mahogany base. Inside was a scene of hills and trees and dancing snow. It was beautiful, an odd choice perhaps, but beautiful. With wonder in her voice, "It's a snow globe."  
  
"Pretend it's Alaska."  
  
She gave him a charming smile. "It is my own little piece of Alaska?"  
  
"It's a promise."   
  
Rogue just looked at him confused. "I can't wait to hear it."  
  
Logan held her gaze and stated seriously, "In a few years, if you still want to go, I'll take you."  
  
Rogue shook the globe to make the snow swirl. Thoughtfully, "I have to wait a few years?"  
  
Logan hadn't figured out why she had to wait, he just knew she did. Apparently he needed a reason. Struggling, "Well, you still have school."  
  
She shook the globe again, her eyes never leaving it. "I start college next September and we have the whole summer before that."  
  
Logan had suspected it the first time he saw her and he knew for sure after their first conversation, Marie was not the type to let anything go. "Look kid, I am the one giving the present so I get to make the rules and that's the deal."  
  
Rogue tilted her head at him. At the very least, it meant he was promising to still be there in a few years. Then there was the trip itself. The two of them, traveling together ... alone. Ahhhh, fantasy material for decades that was. "I'll take it."   
  
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Okay dudes, I am finishing up The Third Christmas and The Second Christmas is with my beta as we speak. So, the big game plan is to have Part 2 up in a couple days and Part 3 a couple days after that. See ya there!  



	2. The Second Christmas

The Second Christmas   
  
Time line - 1 year and 7 months past movie, 1 year and 1 month after Logan's return, 1 year and 5 months before the weird surgical glove wearing sex debacle.   
  
What does this timing mean? Logan is way past being over any residual feelings for Jean and actually hasn't been interested in other women in a while. He loves Marie more than anyone else in the world, but it is still about five months before he sits down and does the math. Translation: Hey, when your head has been stuck in your ass for this long, it can be really hard to dig it out again.  
  
  
This year Logan set his alarm. Well, he had to in order to carefully wrap Marie's present and slowly carry it downstairs ... and then it hide far, far from the tree where all the mayhem would be taking place. However, he noted that the alarm also spared him from the possibility of Marie waking him by jumping on his head. After last year's antics he wouldn't put anything past her. Nevertheless, he managed to return to his room and wait, sitting on his bed for ten minutes, without any sign of the manic teen. Just what the hell was taking her so long anyway?  
  
Starting to get a little antsy and starting to wonder just how easy it was to breathe through three layers of tissue paper, he gave up and went to her room. And who the hell knew tissue paper was so freaking delicate anyway, let alone a food alternative for small woodland creatures? He ended up having to make an emergency trip to the kitchen to get something to distract the damn thing. When there was no response to his knock, he poked his head in the door. Marie was still burrowed under the covers, fast asleep.   
  
"Hey."   
  
Nothing.   
  
"I said 'hey'," and he pushed the door closed, somewhat loudly.  
  
She didn't even look up. "Mmph. I really want to go swimming, I promise, but can't we wait five more minutes?"  
  
"Kid, the lake is frozen."   
  
"Oh." A brief pause before she propped herself up on an elbow and looked at him groggily, hair everywhere. "Then why are you bothering me?"  
  
Logan stood there aghast. Where was the excitement? The crazy behavior? The throwing herself at him bodily to knock him down the stairs to get there faster? "Marie, it's Christmas morning."  
  
A look of confusion, "What?" Then a look of horror, "Oh my God! I slept in?" And then she was up and running around like a lunatic, at one point hopping on one foot in an attempt to put on socks while brushing her teeth. It wasn't till she was sticking her feet into slippers while running a comb through her hair that she spared a look for the clock. All movement ceased. "Wait a second. My clock says it's only six fifty."  
  
Still standing by the door in an attempt not to get in the way of the chaos, "Yeah?"  
  
She turned to face him, "I set my alarm for seven."  
  
Not quite following, "So?"  
  
Rogue crossed her arms. "So, you woke me up before seven a.m. because you couldn't wait to get downstairs on Christmas morning."  
  
Logan felt the need to defend himself, but decided remaining calm was the better tactic so as not to create suspicion. "Is there something you're getting at kid?" He could actually see the little synapses firing in Marie's head ... and then she got it.  
  
A huge smile. "Oh my God, it must be really good isn't it?"   
  
Damn it! Blasé feigned confusion, "What?"  
  
And Rogue realized the power balance was suddenly tilting in her favour. "My present."  
  
Logan put his hands in his pockets. See no big deal at all. "Well now, I wouldn't go saying that."   
  
"Right." Rogue walked past him into the hall. After taking a few steps she turned back to the room. "Come on Logan, you're the one that's in the big hurry this year, remember?"  
  
Logan followed, reminding himself that it didn't matter that he had lost this particular round because the present was good. The present was exceedingly good. Okay, so perhaps the present had only reached divine inspiration due to the intervention of the one-eyed monster, but it wasn't like the boy had actually said the words, "buy the girl a ...". No, Cyke had merely taken a great big gritty shit on the excitement of the original gift, thus forcing Logan to dig even deeper.   
  
A couple of weeks back, Logan had taken an entire day to acquire the gift, hopping on the old bike at dawn and not getting back till night. He had driven back up across the border to a little store he had found years ago on a reservation. It was one of those "trading posts" that probably made at least as much of its profits off the tourists looking for authentic native wares as it did from the actual residents. Logan liked the man who ran the store, had even taken some time to get to know him on previous visits. The gift was a pair of finely made moccasins. They had an intricate beaded design and soft fur that wrapped around the cuff. Logan figured they would provide the opportunity to tell her stories of that particular portion of his travels. A blend of something uniquely beautiful that Marie could savour touching as much as wearing and was meaningful to him. Perfect.   
  
Enter Mr. Stoic.  
  
Logan had literally just walked into his room, dumped his things out of his bag onto his bed and was in the process of taking off his jacket when Scott appeared at his still open door. It was all very business like, the leader informing him of some minor mission the next day for which the team was to meet at seven hundred sharp.   
  
Scott was about to turn to go when his gaze fell to the curious articles. "Huh."  
  
Reaching into his closet to retrieve a hanger, "What?"  
  
Standing straight with a slight smile, "It occurs to me I've only ever seen you in dilapidated boots or bare feet. Somehow you just never struck me as the furry slippers kind of guy."  
  
Logan paused just long enough in what he was doing to send an unimpressed glare. "They're for Marie, you dumbass."  
  
Struck with genuine curiosity Scott bent to retrieve the moccasins. "I'm impressed Logan, they're very nice." He frowned in thought a little, "So you know Rogue is okay with fur then?"  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean."  
  
Scott paused in his inspection to look up at the other man. "Nothing, it's just some people take issue with the use of fur."  
  
Hands on his hips, "They're hand crafted."  
  
"I realize that, I said I was impressed."  
  
Logan started to point. "Look, whoever made them probably ate the damn rabbit, or at least sold the meat. It's part of the whole respect the animal culture."  
  
"Okay, okay." Scott returned the items in question to the bed, raised his hands in surrender and retreated to the door; he really hadn't been looking for a fight. "You're probably right. You know Rogue better than I do." He turned back just before closing the door behind him, "Logan, I'm sure Rogue will think they're perfect."  
  
Logan stood over the bed looking down, scratching his head. There was just enough doubt nagging at him to drive him crazy. Oh crap, now what was he supposed to do?  
  
  
When they reached the main room, Marie waltzing in front of him, Logan suddenly reached out and stopped her with a hand at her hip. She turned, confusion denting her brow. "Maybe we should open ours first."  
  
Marie tilted her head and gave him a serene smile. "I want to save the best for last, just like last year Logan."   
  
He nodded, "Right." Three feet long by two feet wide by about another two feet high equals how many cubic feet of air? She ducked in for a quick hug, told him to have fun and then danced off to the centre of the crowded floor. Logan picked a spot on the couch and settled in to open the boxes handed to him and watch the girl a few feet away. Marie was such a bizarre mix of giddy happiness yet tranquil calm that it fascinated him endlessly. He didn't understand how such a combination worked exactly, but it did. Every once in a while she glanced up at him and gave a little smile, and he felt it again. An object in motion tends to stay in motion. He had broken a basic scientific principal simply by realizing that there were in fact times when he could actually be comfortable being still.   
  
He looked up, when he felt the cushion beside him dip, to see Jean Grey smiling at him. "I like my book."  
  
Logan nodded slowly. "Good. You don't have it already do you?"  
  
Jean looked about the room. "Oddly enough I don't. I studied the lives of Watson and Crick during my undergrad obviously, but ..." A little sigh. "DNA, it's all so complicated now. I think it will be good to go back to my roots. Remember the people with whom it all started."   
  
There was a slight pause. "The motorcycle helmet was a laugh riot."  
  
Jean gave a wry grin. "It was Scott's idea."  
  
"I assumed as much." Logan was certain there was some hidden message about him hitting his head one too many times behind the gift.  
  
"I insisted that I pick the colour."   
  
The helmet was black. "As opposed to what exactly?"  
  
Jean smiled more broadly but deflected the question. "I was walking around and noticed a rather large gift off in the corner."  
  
"Really."  
  
She nodded. "I thought, in case someone was worried, I should let the owner know the contents are still viable."  
  
"That's good information to have."  
  
Jean stood and squeezed his shoulder. "She is going to adore it."  
  
As Jean walked away Logan muttered. "I hope so." Man he hoped she liked it. Man he was glad to know it was still alive.   
  
Rogue tried not to watch the scene too carefully. Her rational mind knew she didn't need to, but old habits die hard and all that. If the last year had taught her nothing else she could at least be confident that certainly, definitely, probably, most likely, there was very little chance that anything would ever actually happen between the two. If it was going to happen, it would have already, right?   
  
Really, Rogue tried to theorize, if she should worry about anything, it was the possibility that one day Logan would actually get over Jean and find someone new. If something unimaginable occurred, bringing about the end of the Scott and Jean institution, and if Jean and Logan did find their way to one another, Rogue knew that her position in his life would not change. Having been there from the beginning, Jean understood their bond and the nature of their relationship. She would not be threatened by their connection and would feel no need to try to situate herself between them. Best of all, since the school was her home, Jean would never have reason to ask Logan to leave. Someone new would be an entirely different matter. Rogue could imagine what it might be like, trying to build a relationship with a man when he spends so much of his time with another girl. Becoming jealous would only be natural. A new woman might make him choose and that thought was terrifying. Really, it was silly to get all worked up over his unrequited love for the beautiful doctor.   
  
Still though, watching them, she couldn't help but feel a little wistful. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but when Jean squeezed his shoulder and walked away, he looked, God, he looked almost nervous. All this time and an innocent, simple touch from Jean could still create such a reaction in him. It was sad. Uh, she was being such a childish, selfish bitch. She should want him to get over it. She should want him to find someone new and wonderful and be happy. He had given her so much and what had she given him. Nothing. Well, nothing and a book, she thought as she cast her eyes down to his gift she had once again intercepted.   
  
Hey, what the hell?  
  
Rogue looked about her. Coloured paper littered the floor. People seemed to have officially switched from the opening mode to the checking my new stuff out inspection. She craned her neck to get a glimpse under the tree. Nothing left. Hmmmm. She looked to Logan. He wore a smug grin. Bastard. She picked up the one gift left on the floor and crawled over too him. Hands on his knees, "Alright Mr. Funny, cough it up."  
  
Innocently, "What?"  
  
"You know, playfully hiding presents from your friends really doesn't match the growly tough guy reputation."  
  
He scowled at her, took her hand, pulled her up to her feet as he stood and marched her over to the far corner. Two boys were sitting on the chairs which had been strategically placed to obstruct the view of the of what was hidden behind. Logan jerked his thumb over his shoulder and grunted, "Out." The twelve-year-olds spared a glance at each other before quickly skedaddling.   
  
Rogue crossed her arms and watched in amusement as Logan moved the chairs, revealing a brightly wrapped, large rectangular box with a giant bow on top. He sat in front of it and motioned for her to do the same. "Can we move it out from the corner a bit?"  
  
Logan rubbed his hands on his thighs. "No, I think it's better if you open it first."  
  
"Okay." She sat on her knees beside him and contemplated the gift before her.  
  
"Well, go on." Logan's fingers tapped against his legs impatiently.  
  
Rogue took a breath and removed the bow, studying it for a moment before putting it aside. Finding a seem in the tissue, she took an edge between her fingers and pulled. The strip removed revealed that not a box lay underneath, but a cage. She looked to Logan. He appeared to be very pleased with himself. She raised herself up and began ripping paper with more fervor. Finally, outside layers torn away, she could look inside to see a brown and white ball of fuzz, lazily eating a carrot. "It's ... it's a bunny."  
  
It was in fact alive. Thank God. A hundred years from now he would have been sitting on a leather couch while some geek looked down over his glasses and asked him, "So your relationship with this," checking his notes, "Marie started to disintegrate when exactly?"   
  
"It was that second Christmas bub, dead bunny, she lifted off the freaking tissue paper and, well, she really just got the wrong idea."  
  
Marie was already lifting the wire cage off its base to get to the creature inside. She lifted the small bundle under its front legs and held it up to her face. Marie stared at the rabbit. The rabbit stared at Marie. "I figured, since I can touch your hair, it should be safe for you to touch him." She moved to cradle the animal in the crook of her arm, pulled one glove off with her teeth and carefully began to stroke the soft fur. "Just, you know, don't let him snack on your finger or anything."   
  
And then she smiled, or rather beamed. "I love him."  
  
Deeply satisfied, "Good."  
  
He was just watching her, everything else apparently forgotten. Rogue continued to run her hands over the glorious coat, reveling in the warmth and the fact that she could feel her new friend's body move with each quick breath. She stole a glance at Logan. Yep, still staring. Shyly, "It's your turn."  
  
"Right." Logan shook himself from his daze and turned his attention to the gift sitting in front of him. It was a simple square. Logan was somewhat relieved that there wasn't another t-shirt acting as camouflage. He had been half expecting something in pink. This time around, it was simply a book; "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance".   
  
"Okay, I admit, I picked it up because of the title, but when I looked at the first page, turns out it's kinda a hard read."  
  
"Yeah it is."  
  
Disappointed, "Oh, you've already read it."  
  
Logan looked up and smirked. "I used to own a copy. I think it blew up with my trailer."  
  
"Oh!" Rogue perked up. "So it's a good thing then, I'm finally replacing something." She returned her gaze back to the bunny in her lap. Thoughtfully, "Do you ever wonder, what your life would be like, if I hadn't followed you?"  
  
"No point, I know exactly what it would be like, the same as it always had been."  
  
"I have no idea." Rogue tilted her head up at him. "Even if I had ended up here, it wouldn't be the same. I'm not sure I'd be the same. I'm glad." Eyes back down. "But sometimes I worry, about what I cost you."  
  
Logan took a breath, he didn't like where this was heading. "What did you cost me Marie?"  
  
"I don't know. Freedom."  
  
"Freedom is what you make of it." He reached for her hand that was still gloved. "Hey, I wasn't exactly thrilled with the life I had. Look at me." She met his eyes. "I moved around cause I didn't have anything worth stopping for. You're worth stopping for." He paused. "And hey, the whole package came with a hell of a lot of perks; decent home base..."  
  
"Near death experiences."  
  
"Good food..."  
  
"Super-hero obligations."  
  
"Fun gig," a wry grin, "the respect of my peers..."  
  
"Pretty women to look at?"  
  
He snorted, "That too." Honestly, he didn't know what would have happened if Charlie had found him sans Marie. The way it did go down, the only reason he joined the team on that first mission was because it was the best way to make sure the kid was going to be okay, because she had been stuffed into a bag while he lay unconscious moments after he had promised to take care of her. And he came back because the school was the best place for her and he still had that promise to keep. But now, if he was really truthful with himself, he had to admit, he liked it. He liked that his sorry ass life had some purpose. He had never believed in any cause, aside from his own. Still, the grand scheme, the greater good wasn't what moved him. It was watching the individual person hurting like he did and realizing he could make it stop. No one should hurt like him, certainly not someone innocent. Marie had been his in. Maybe if she hadn't been here, he never would have stayed, but now, things were different. Marie was the first person he wanted to help, but she wasn't the last. If something happened to her, or if she left him, he would stay. He would be a miserable, howling, piece of shit, but he would stay.  
  
Marie's concentration was back to petting the rabbit. She seemed happy with his response. She was definitely happy with his gift. "So, what's on the rest of the agenda for today?"  
  
Uh oh, she looked a little mischievous. "Well actually, I heard since this is the first Christmas in so long that the lake has been frozen in time, everyone's going to go skating, like a big group."  
  
"Kid..."  
  
"Oh come on Logan, don't be such a baby." He glared at her. "I'm sure you know how. It'll be fun."   
  
Logan considered pointing out that since it was Christmas he shouldn't have to go. However, he realized it being Christmas was precisely the reason he would end up giving in. He had this humiliating vision of landing on his ass so many times that he would be moved to suggest, "Why don't I just stay down here and you drag me around a while? It will have about the same effect." He could always try an avoidance tactic, which may lead to a pretty decent bribe. "So kid, what are your thoughts on the issue of fur?"  
  
  
Several hours later Rogue padded into the den in her new moccasins. Last year she had been thrilled when Logan agreed to the new tradition. They had chosen the smaller den, as opposed to the main room, so they could have a private screening. Logan had put a note up on the door which simply read, "Stay out. - L." He provided a six pack and "insisted" she have one to complete the atmosphere. It had been very good night.   
  
When she entered the room he was lounged on the couch in his usual uniform of jeans and two shirts. The VCR appeared to be already set up. "Mr. Butler is all settled into his new home."  
  
Logan looked up and took in her appearance; flannels, covered in the little snowmen, the infamous moccasins, her checkered quilt under one arm and a box in the other hand. "Mr. Butler?"  
  
"My rabbit." She dumped her blanket. He was frowning at her. "The one you gave me." No change in his expression. "Logan?"  
  
"Mr. Butler?"  
  
"Hi," she waved, "girl from the south. Besides, I can tell that rabbit is a little rough around the edges. Honourable maybe, but definitely doesn't play by the same rules as normal rabbit society." Finally he nodded and turned to look back at the blank tv. "Anyway, what are you sulking about?"  
  
"I'm not sulking, I am plotting my revenge."  
  
Oh, she really should have been more cautious. They had tried skating after all. It had gone badly. She gave her biggest, hopefullest , most innocent smile, "I love you."  
  
"Uhuh. You know, I have always suspected revenge might be even more fun between loved ones." He stared straight ahead with an evil glint. "They'll never see it coming."  
  
She plopped on the couch beside him. "Here, eat one of these."   
  
A red foil wrapped ball landed in his lap. He picked it up suspiciously. "What is it?"  
  
"A Lindor chocolate," she answered pertly. "They are supposed to make you feel all warm and loved inside."  
  
Logan scowled at the offending object, but he started unwrapping it. "Sounds suspiciously like a crock of shit."  
  
Rogue shrugged, "You never know till you try." She began her ritual of cocooning herself in her comforter. As she leaned forward to secure the blanket around her legs she noticed Logan pop the chocolate into his mouth and start to chew. She leaned back and simply waited for what she knew was coming.  
  
"Oh my God."  
  
Rogue feigned confusion, "What?"  
  
Logan swallowed that last of the creamy sweetness. "That," he paused for emphasis, "was really good." Rogue snorted. He casually swiped another from the box on her lap. "Where did you get them anyway?"  
  
Rogue returned to pulling her blanket around her shoulders and tucking it in at her sides. "Some boy gave them to me."   
  
Logan paused before tossing the next treat into his waiting mouth and looked at it a little guiltily. "If a boy gave them to you, don't you think he might be kinda mad that you're sharing them with me?"  
  
Rogue snorted again. "Like I care." Logan just stared at her. "Chocolates are not an appropriate Christmas gift if you are trying to impress a girl."  
  
In an attempt to be as annoying as possible. "Didn't you just say they were the chocolates of love?"  
  
She glared at him. "That's the ad campaign." Finally, securely swaddled she settled down into the cushions. He was still just looking at her unimpressed, clearly waiting for an explanation. "Chocolates are something you give to the hostess at a party, or maybe the nice old lady next door, a teacher, the guy at the bank who helped you with a loan, maybe even your dentist. Valentine's day is a totally different thing. Valentine's day is almost about chocolate, but at Christmas, they are the save-all gift you give to people you don't really know."  
  
Logan crossed his arms. "Hey, at least the squirt tried."  
  
She mumbled, "Yeah, he tried so hard he actually put a whole thirty seconds of thought into it." Rogue heaved a sigh and explained quietly, "I want a guy to be creative. I want him to find something that is special, something that is perfect just for me. Then I will know he actually understands who I am and that he cares."  
  
Logan regarded her thoughtfully. "Like a snow globe?"  
  
Rogue gave a humourless smile as she felt her heart ache; that was exactly what she meant. In a tiny voice, "Yeah." They sat in silence for a moment. "Can we start the movie now?" He nodded. She looked about her. "Oh God damn it!"  
  
Completely taken off guard, "What?"  
  
She looked miserable. "I can't find the remote."  
  
He chuckled a little. "Well I'm sure it's around here somewhere. Maybe your sitting on it."  
  
Almost a wail, "But now I can't get up!"  
  
Grinning like an idiot and shaking his head, Logan got up off the couch and loped over to the VCR to press play. When he turned to face her again Marie was giving him the cutest smile. She just loved being waited on. "Beer please."  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her, but reached down to retrieve the beer from the sixer on the floor and handed it to her. He sat down and stretched his arm around her. "Come here kid," he murmured as he pulled her against him. He felt her snuggle down into his side. He watched as she unwrapped another chocolate and reached up, holding it in front of his lips. On cue he opened his mouth and took it from her fingers, his tongue catching a bit of her glove. Savouring the delicious cream he nudged her. "They certainly are good though. Maybe I'll date him." And Marie laughed and laughed. 


	3. The Third Christmas

Third Christmas  
  
Time line - 2 years and 7 months past movie, 2 years and 1 month after Logan's return, 3 months after the infamous dog tag exchange, 5 months before the weird surgical glove wearing sex debacle.   
  
What does this timing mean? Well, Logan finally got his head out of his ass around seven months ago. However, Rogue, sadly, still hasn't figured this out. He doesn't know she doesn't know. Translation: Sometimes when physical expressions of love (even something as simple as a kiss) are barred, wackiness ensues.   
  
  
Logan eased himself into Marie's room, careful not to wake her. Using all of his natural stealth he made his way over to the bed and slowly lowered himself down to sit at the edge. She didn't even stir. He took a moment to just watch her. Beautiful. Calm even breaths. An absolute picture of serenity; hair splayed out over the pillow in silky stands, warm body nestled under the covers. As much as he enjoyed admiring her as she slept, he liked Marie even better when she was awake. He reached out with a tentative gloved finger and caressed her cheek.   
  
Rogue opened her eyes and blinked at the man hovering over her. "Hey."  
  
A low soft voice accompanied with a small smile, "Hey kid, it's your favorite day of the year."  
  
Rogue's eyes lit up as she lifted her arms over her head and stretched. "This is two years in a row Logan. Someone might start to think you like it."  
  
He rolled his eyes and stood up to allow her to rise from the bed. "I like it." A light wack on the butt that made her jump. "Now get moving!"  
  
Rogue shook her head as she put her feet into her slippers and ambled into the bathroom. Brushing her teeth she looked into the mirror; flannel Santa jammies, bed head and a metal chain peeking out from under her collar. It was their third Christmas together. Almost three years and she had grown up so much and in some ways changed so little.   
  
Rogue had been extremely careful in her gift selection for Logan this year. It was of the utmost importance that she did not choose something that would whisper the words, "I love you."  
  
Over the last year, she had toyed, briefly, with the idea of telling him her true feelings. However, it had gone so horrifically badly in her own imagination, she couldn't dare make the attempt in real life. She had only allowed herself to really think it through once.   
  
One morning, the previous summer, she woke up early. A glance to the clock told her Logan was due to appear at her door in another ten minutes or so. Refusing to get out of bed even a second before her scantily clad, towel bearing alarm showed up, she snuggled under the covers and let her mind wander. Over the last couple of months he had been even more attentive than in the past, if that was believable. He touched her more, even held her hand on occasion. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe one day he would forget about Jean and be open to the idea of loving her. Maybe he just needed a little push.  
  
He came into her room. She was sitting, waiting for him. He was surprised of course. A simple statement, "You're up already."  
  
She answered directly, "Yes, I was thinking." The she faltered a little, "Can we, can we talk a minute?"  
  
Amused, not knowing what was coming, "Okay."  
  
"Maybe you should sit." Even more amused he complied. He had no idea. She doubted for a second, thought maybe she shouldn't, but she really, really wanted to, just once, get it out, say the words aloud. "There is something I want to tell you. I just want to say it, so that you know and maybe can consider new options." So ridiculously pathetic; she might as well have been saying, "Now, I know a man in your position usually doesn't consider life insurance, but wait until you see what we're prepared to offer."   
  
And then he suddenly understood. He panicked. He tried to stop her. "Kid, don't."  
  
"I love you." She could see it on his face already, she was ruining everything, but once she started she had to finish. "I'm in love with you Logan. And I just want to know, if you think maybe one day, you might learn to love me?"  
  
He stared at the floor. Resigned, "No."  
  
Suddenly she was angry. Furious with him for answering so fast. "Well don't even bother to think about it."  
  
He looked up at her, miserable. "Kid you know..."  
  
Jean. And she did. She had always known. But now she couldn't stand to be in the same room as him, to have him so close. She was so humiliated, weak, rejected, laid bare and stomped on. Quietly, "Go away."  
  
He got up and walked to the door, head bowed. At the last second he turned, wanting to fix things a little. "Kid..."  
  
But she hated the sound of his voice. She lashed out the only way she knew how. "You shouldn't have promised to take care of me. I was seventeen, you saved my life, you were the only one not afraid to touch me; you should have known what those words would do to me."  
  
And he left. He had come to her room, her best friend, happily expecting a perfectly wonderful morning in the lake and she had taken that away. She had broken them, denied them the simple pleasure that was their friendship.  
  
Rogue was sitting in her bed balling her eyes out like a baby. Sobbing. Practically wailing. She tried to catch her breath and hiccuped. Stupid. Stupid. It wasn't real. It was completely irrational. She needed to think happy thoughts; Logan holding her, Logan smiling at her, Logan putting her over his shoulder and carrying her up the stairs a couple weeks back when he caught her playing stip poker with four of the boys. Which really had been an overreaction considering the fact that she had been winning; she hadn't even lost a glove.  
  
When Logan entered the room, towel in hand, that was how he found her; a heaving, red faced, swollen eyed, lump. He was at her side in an instant, sitting next to her, hand stroking her hair. So tender, "Hey, what is it?"  
  
"Bad," she sniffled, "bad dream."  
  
He quirked a smile. "I know about those."   
  
She smiled back and then she was in his arms, a wonderfully tight embrace, her face nestled against the towel which protected his chest. She felt like such an idiot, a victim of a daydream gone horribly, horribly wrong. Who did that to themselves? But now she was so warm and safe. She would never ever do anything to risk giving this up.  
  
So that was it then; she never wanted to hear him say "No," and not just for the obvious reasons. She knew the answer was no already, hearing it allowed would hurt too much, make it too real and final. But more than that, if Logan told her no, it would be essentially the same as asking her to stop loving him. She wasn't ready to do that yet. Having him in her life, caring for her, being close to him almost every day, worrying about him while he was away on missions, watching over him when he came back; perhaps it had started as a crush, but now, loving him was a part of her. Asking her to stop would create a hole she wouldn't know how to fill.  
  
Rogue also had to consider Logan's feelings; saying "No," would hurt him too. It would rip him up inside, go against all his instincts to cause her pain and she didn't want to put him in that position. The sacrificial nature of love rears its self-effacing head.   
  
Also, it would force him to make a choice, one he wouldn't want to face and the decision would cost them both. It wasn't that they consciously used each other as substitutes in a malicious sense, at all, but they were companions. She was even more certain of this arrangement after he returned the dog tags. If it became clear that there was an unequaled balance between them, his own honour would force him to withdraw. He would feel he was taking advantage of her. He would set her free. And the thing was, she knew how much he did love her, depend on her for the human connection he had come to enjoy after all his time alone. She didn't want to take herself away from him.   
  
Of course, it was always possible that one day it would be safe to tell him.   
  
Maybe someday she would learn to control her powers and some man would sweep her off her feet, or maybe there was a guy out there crazy enough not to care, who just hadn't found his way into her universe yet. They would meet, fall madly in love and decide to wed. Logan, in full brother mode would agree to give her away. Right before the trip down the aisle she would turn to him in the antechamber and say, "You know you were my first love right? Buddy up there certainly has a lot to live up to after you." And they would laugh and she would cry happy tears, spoiling her makeup and thank him for taking such good care of her. He would tell her how happy he was for her while at the same time offering to gut the man in question if he ever gave her any trouble.   
  
Maybe they would never find anyone else, but always be there for each other. She would be ninety years old and he would amuse her with high speed wheel chair rides through the gardens of the old folks home. She would be the eccentric old woman who cackles loudly and never holds her tongue over the misguided youth of the day. All the other old bitties would be hugely jealous of her handsome visitor. In a moment of clarity she would look into his young face and say, "I was always a little bit in love with you." They would both smile at the memories and cry a little. He would kiss her on the forehead and because she was so old and so tired her skin wouldn't bother to notice. Then she would ask, if he didn't mind the taste of PolyGrip, could he give her a real kiss. And he would, his mouth sweet and gentle against her frail lips.  
  
Hell, maybe when she was thirty-seven, he would get off the pot and decide that two decades is long enough to pine for the unattainable woman. They'd be sitting on the couch, watching something on the news about peace talks in the Middle East and all of the sudden, the heavens would part and the light would dawn. He'd look at her with new eyes and realize what a hot little number she actually was. Fortunately this would be just in time for her sexual peak.  
  
One thing life had taught Rogue for certain was that anything was possible. However, for the foreseeable future, he could not know.   
  
This was the first Christmas that Rogue would be wearing his dog tags around her neck, the first exchange of gifts since that emotional roller coaster of a morning, so she felt an immense pressure to make the gift perfect. It had to be within all established boundaries. It could not, under any interpretation, suggest that she had become somehow romantically confused. It should be something specific for Logan, that he would enjoy obviously, but it must not imply that she spent unprecedented quantities of time contemplating the inner workings of the man that was the Wolverine.   
  
The answer was almost too simple: cigars. The problem was, Rogue knew exactly diddley squat about them. She needed help. She needed a man's perspective.  
  
Scott was hunted down while he was tinkering with one of the cars, alone, in the garage on a Saturday afternoon. He patiently listened as Rogue told him of her dilemma. No, not the whole complicated drama. Just the simple fact that she had decided on the cigars but knew nothing about quality, selection, or even where she might find them.  
  
Scott seemed to turn this story over in his brain as he carefully wiped a smudge of grease off a wrench with a soft cotton rag. Finally, "I know a place. I'll be in the area next week anyway. Why don't I pick something up for you while I'm there?"  
  
This was a little more help than she had intended. "Are you sure?"  
  
He shrugged and smiled and assured her it was not a bother at all. Put at ease with his casual air, she thanked him profusely and handed over her small amount of money.  
  
A few evenings later the charming leader appeared at her door, parcel in hand. Rogue took a cautious glance down the hallway as she asked, "You were able to get something with what I gave you?"   
  
Absolute confidence, "Not a problem. Logan should really enjoy these."  
  
She opened the bag to see a flat rectangular package. It was a little heavier than she had expected, but she was distracted by something else. "It's already wrapped?"  
  
Scott was unfazed. "Mhmm, they did it at the store."  
  
Suddenly she was gripped with a minor suspicion. "You remembered they are meant to be a gift from me right? They aren't laced with something nasty or anything?"  
  
Scott actually laughed. "Coming between a man and his cigars is a low not even Logan or I would stoop to, Rogue. Besides, I know better than to get messed up in your relationship."  
  
Rogue frowned once for good measure, but then smiled and gushed her thanks before saying goodnight. She carefully hid the box under some sweaters in her bottom drawer. Bring it on Christmas, she was ready.  
  
  
When Rogue came out of the bathroom Logan was sitting on her bed with a slight frown. "Are you just about ready?"  
  
She took a dramatic pause to "consider" his question. "I think so."  
  
Logan rose to his feet and took Marie's arm to lead her from the room. "All right then." Walking down the hall he moved his hand to the lower back of the woman at his side. Almost three years had passed. They had both changed. Right from the beginning she had staked her claim in his life like some sort of tenacious bull dog and then slowly, he had fallen in love with her. The Christmas before he met her, he never could have imagined it happening. The two years since, he had been practically oblivious to the evolution, but in retrospect the occasions seemed so distinct. He could almost look back on those interludes as sort of checkpoints on the path to where they were now. And here they were, number three; a day that would bring even fonder memories.   
  
Logan had agonized over his gift selection this year. This was the first Christmas that Marie would be wearing his dog tags around her neck, the first exchange of gifts since the morning that almost killed him, so needless to say, it had to be perfect. It had to show that all barriers had been broken down. It could not, under any interpretation, suggest that he was having any doubts. It had to be something that demonstrated just how much time he spent thinking of her. It had to shout, "I love you."  
  
Of course there was one basic problem; Logan had exactly zero experience swapping presents within the context of a romantic relationship. Hell, the having a lasting romantic relationship was a pretty freaking new idea. Fantasizing about one with Jean didn't count since she had put the kibosh on that before he even got out of the proverbial gate. Do not be mistaken, he had plenty experience with women, plenty. However, this was the first time he was expected to spend a holiday with a woman he actually wanted to stick around, forever. This was a precedent setting occasion; the pressure was immense.   
  
Moreover, it was far from lost on Logan that this was also Marie's first romance. She was almost twenty years old, been kissed only once and it had gone particularly badly. He was well aware of the fact that there had been a time when she feared she would be alone for the rest of her life. There were some serious missed experiences and lost time to make up for.   
  
He'd be damned if come Christmas morning she watched her little friends open indulgent ideals from some punk ass kids while she sat there holding a, a, hell, insert ubiquitously lame, grossly inappropriate item here ... maybe like a board game. Then the girls would sigh and pity her, for though she may have an overwhelmingly virile and sexy mate, he was also a cold, inattentive, unfeeling neanderthal. He never ever wanted to hear his woman offer up the excuse, "You just don't understand him like I do." Well of course no one understood him like Marie. Understanding each other was pretty much the whole foundation of their friendship. The point was, Marie shouldn't have to miss out on anything just because she happened to be the one person lucky enough to grasp the inner workings of the man that was the Wolverine.  
  
It was important to Logan that Marie not want for anything. Marie deserved everything she had ever hoped for. He knew he could give her that. He just didn't know what to get her for Christmas. And this, friends, was kind of like the first domino.  
  
He had realized he needed help. He needed the perspective of a man in a successful, long term relationship. He also knew, considering his options, this matter had to be handled with the utmost discretion and care.  
  
Scott was sitting in the main lounge, miraculously alone, reading a newspaper. Logan trudged over to the couch opposite the young man. Once he acquired his position he was a little lost as to how to proceed next. He stood, frowning and thinking for a moment.   
  
Scott turned a page.   
  
Having decided his next logical move, Logan plopped down into his seat real casual like. That's right, just here sitting, no big deal, it could happen any day. Okay, to begin a conversation, it was kinda required he say something. Hmmm. A perfunctory greeting, "One Eye."  
  
Not looking up from his paper Scott replied in the same dull tone, "White Fang."  
  
"Pansy."  
  
"Cro-Mag."  
  
Both men, seemingly satisfied with their display of bravado, fell silent. Logan started tapping his thumb against the armrest and looked about the room.   
  
Scott turned another page.   
  
Must keep dialogue momentum going. "Um, just so we're clear a wolverine is..."  
  
Now Scott did look up. "A big giant weasel. Got it." A smile, "Sorry, Logan, I couldn't think of a big giant weasel reference off the top of my head." And back to his reading he went.  
  
Oh God, this was hell. This was like the definition of hell. He had absolutely no idea how to start a civil conversation with Summers that didn't involve either school or battle. Why, why why was it he had to live in a place where the only other relationship having male from his generation (well, appearance and memory wise anyway) had to be this infuriating, tightwad, pretty boy poof? Ah! Think, think. Seg to Christmas. Seg to Christmas! He made a production of looking about the room thoughtfully. "So, I guess it won't be too long till this place is overrun with tacky decor again huh?"   
  
Oh man, now Scotty-boy was looking at him like he was crazy. "Yes."  
  
Logan started nodding his head. "You picked out something for Jeanie yet? She really liked what you got her last year. What, what was that again?"  
  
The newspaper was put aside and Scott crossed his arms. "You don't know what to get Rogue for Christmas."  
  
Logan froze. "What?"  
  
Scott frowned and continued. "I don't know what your problem is. You did a pretty good job the last couple of years. I mean, I've actually seen her bring that rabbit down for meals."  
  
"Mr. Butler only comes down for dinner on Sundays." Scott's mouth fell open a little. "She says it's family night." Realizing this line of conversation wasn't going to help him any, Logan decided to get to the point. "Look, I want to make sure I get her something, right. It's important."  
  
Scott sighed and leaned forward. "Logan, if I tell you what to get, it's not going to be right."  
  
Logan growled quietly to himself. "Well, that makes an annoying amount of sense."  
  
"With all the time the two of you spend together, there must be something you know about her that no one else does. Go with that." The words were very sincere. However, Logan was deeply suspicious that they were said in the exact same tone of voice Summers used when speaking to the boys about their melodramatic teen angst. As a result he felt totally justified in scowling and leaving the room without offering a thank you.   
  
He walked around the halls turning the idea over in his head. Something he knows about her that no one else does. Something he knows about her that no one else does. Hmmmmm.   
  
He knew she was heading to Alaska when they met, but he had already cashed in on that bit of insider knowledge. He supposed he could always wrap up some travel brochures and announce that they were going that summer. However, the promise was already made, the trip a guarantee, so despite the fact he knew she would be thrilled, that would be cheating.  
  
He knew the teddy bear she had since she was a baby was named Wally. He had been sadly left behind when she was caught sleeping in prairie farmer's barn and had to make a run for it. She cried for an hour when she realized her mistake; frantically searching through her duffle bag in the next gas station rest room. A tragic story definitely, but there was nothing he could do to rectify it. He was not buying her a teddy bear. The idea was to get to the point where she would be comfortable curling up next to him as she slept at night, not to offer her a substitute.   
  
He knew when she was ten she wanted to be a trapeze artist. She spent the summer swinging around on the wooden play gym her father built, with two of her friends. After just one week, her neighbor brought over his jazz cd collection because he was so sick of hearing Hagood Hardy blasted on their portable radio. Circus camp? Did such a thing as circus camp exist? No, no, no. It would be a trip for two of course. She would expect him to participate. That way madness lies.   
  
He knew she liked to mail order her underwear because it made her feel pretty. Heh, heh, heh, bingo.  
  
Deciding right off that risking a "discretely labeled" package arriving in the mail was completely unacceptable, Logan made a trip into the big city. The lingerie stores in Manhattan were vastly different from those in rural Canada. Right off the bat the sales girl, Chrissy, offered to try a few items on for him. Very tempting, but considering just how long it had been, he decided it was an extremely bad idea.   
  
Selection was key. He did not want it to come off as a gift that was really for him ... at all. That was not the point. Rather he wanted something that would show Marie how special she was. How beautiful she was to him. When he explained that to Chrissy, in very hushed tones, she not only bounced back from his earlier "rejection", but actually looked a little teary. He glared at her and warned if she actually said, "Awww," he and his wallet wearing ass would be out of there before she could say the word "commission".   
  
Finally Logan settled on a full length peach satin negligee and a matching robe. It was perfect, gorgeous and delicate. It struck exactly the balance he was looking for, mature and beautiful without seeming too overly bold on his part. He wanted to demonstrate to Marie how he saw her, but he didn't want her to feel pressured. This was not some cunning declaration that he wanted sex, now. She still wasn't ready, wasn't comfortable taking that risk and that was fine. They were moving slowly so she could learn to feel safe. This would show that he wasn't afraid of her. The idea of seeing her dressed this way wasn't frightening; it was wonderful.  
  
When he got home that night he put the box in his bottom drawer with his jeans. He dropped on the bed and took a swig from the beer he had picked up in the kitchen on his way by. He couldn't help feeling smug; he was so ready.  
  
  
When they reached the main room Logan pressed a kiss to the back of Marie's head before making his way over to his spot on the couch. For a moment he considered joining her on the floor, pulling her down into his lap, but he decided not to crowd her. This was always a part of the day she spent with her friends. They might be a couple now, but Marie would always be her own woman; just the way her liked her.  
  
Rogue watched Logan take his place on the perimeter with the adults. He sent her a wink as Jean handed him his first box. She was rational enough to realize that was in no way intended as a remark on Jean; she wasn't that insecure. However, she couldn't help but wonder why the man couldn't take a second to think through how his actions might be interpreted, just once in a while.  
  
Time went by quickly enough till Rogue was once again left with just two boxes; no hiding games this year. As she approached him, gifts in hand, Logan stood up and took her elbow. "How about we go off to the side a little?"  
  
She shrugged, "Okay." Logan led her to a row of chairs along the wall. Together they sat, knees turned toward each other and she handed over his gift. "You're first this year."  
  
Logan gave a signature eyebrow raise, smirk combo as he started to tear the paper. Slowly a finely finished wood was revealed. Rogue gaped a little as Logan ran his hands over the humidor. She quickly switched to an easy smile when he looked up at her.   
  
A little awed, "It's beautiful, kid."   
  
She nodded. Oh yeah, gorgeous. Scott?   
  
Then he opened the box. Logan's mouth dropped open. Individually wrapped, top of the line Cubans. "Oh my God, kid. You didn't have to do this."  
  
She actually started to laugh a little. Scott! "You like them?"  
  
Logan was aghast. "Like them?" He snorted. "You're kidding right? Oh my God, you must have been saving up all year for these."  
  
That's when he leaned forward and pulled her into a hug. Rogue could see Scott over Logan's shoulder. He gave her a thumbs up. That jet owning, border hopping, bastard! Logan sat back in his seat, humidor open, fingers running possessively up and down the cigars. She half expected him to start tearing up. Oh, she was going to kick herself some serious golden boy ass. Logan gestured toward the box that sat forgotten in her lap. "You." Oh for Christ's sake, he was practically speechless.  
  
Rogue ripped into the paper with gusto. By the time she was about to open the box Logan finally seemed to be climbing back down from heaven enough to pay a little attention. She lifted the lid, parted the tissue ... and completely froze.   
  
She sat there, eyes wide, breathing through her mouth. She tentatively ran a finger down the silky material. Now she could feel the tears coming to her own eyes. Of course Logan felt the need to be the one to give her such a thing. He knew better than anyone that no other boy ever would. So here it was, fancy pajamas to make her feel pretty. It was lovely, beautiful, but it certainly didn't whisper sex, let alone scream it. It wasn't made of the suggestive lace that would drive a certain feral man over the edge and make him want to rip it from her body. No, it came complete with robe to make sure every last innocent inch of her was covered. And peach; it might as well be baby doll pink. Hardly a take me now colour like red. So it was true, Logan was just never going to think of her that way.  
  
He was leaning forward, a concerned look on his face. "Is it okay? I, I didn't mean it to be presumptive or anything."  
  
Of course he didn't. "No," she said quickly with a reassuring smile. "I understand. It's perfect. I love it."  
  
He breathed deep and nodded. "Good."  
  
  
  
Several hours later Logan was sitting on a couch, back in his track pants and t-shirt, drinking a beer with Marie curled up next to him, sound asleep. He couldn't blame her, really the best parts of the movie were all in the first half. The past couple of years he had felt a particular kinship with the most bizarre proposal scene ever captured on film. Poor George, knows his life is about to completely change because of a woman and no matter how hard his instincts tell him to fight, there is absolutely nothing he can do to stop it.   
  
Finally the credits started to roll. Logan dug out the remote, turned off the TV and hit rewind. He looked down at the head nestled under his arm and stroked her hair. The rest of her body was hidden by the blanket they shared. When she had entered the room he snatched the quilt away and spread it out, giving her no choice but to join him rather than rolling herself up in it as usual. Hey, he had put his track pants back on for a reason; he was expecting some serious cuddle action. He had reminded himself not to be disappointed when she showed up in her Santa flannels. That was the point, no expectations or demands.  
  
Putting the empty bottle on the table he carefully disentangled himself and eased Marie down to the couch with her back to the cushions. He rearranged the quilt and then got in with her, cautious to keep his head well above hers. That worked out okay rather nicely though; he could feel her warm even breaths against his chest. He pulled her close. As he drifted off he couldn't think of a better way for this Christmas to end.   
  
When Rogue first woke up she was a little confused. The TV was off, but she knew they were still in the den. She was lying on the couch, trapped between Logan and the back cushions. Her face was against his chest. She could feel him breathe, hear his heart beat. It felt too good, she needed to get out of there. She moved slightly and he pulled her closer. That's when she felt it; he was aroused. She could feel him pressed against her stomach. She really needed to get out of there. She started to push him away.  
  
Logan awoke with a snort. He gazed down at her. "Hey."  
  
"Hey." He ran his fingers through her hair, stroked her arm, patted her hip. The only thing she could think of to say, "I fell asleep." God, didn't he know how much this confused her?  
  
"We both did." He was starting to get his bearings. Hmm, now he hadn't intended that to happen, but there it was. Maybe he should have known better; take a good dream add a little friction and he had been just asking for trouble. Well, he couldn't deny it; she had to feel it. Then again, this was one way to put the idea out there. He could gauge her reaction, wait to see how she wanted to proceed, without making it an overt confrontation. The matter was completely in her hands, or not. "Do you want to stay here?"  
  
Oh lord, she realized he must not know she could tell. Maybe he thought even if she could feel it, she, virginal little Rogue, wouldn't know what it was. But she really needed to get away from him. "No, I think I should go back to my room."  
  
She wasn't ready. That was fair. He wasn't going to push her. He stroked her cheek with a gloved finger. "Okay."  
  
He had no idea what he did to her. They both sat up and Rogue got to her feet. She reached out her hand, "My blanket."  
  
He smiled a little. "I'll carry it." No point in making a production; he was wearing track pants.  
  
Right, how embarrassing for him, so there was one good thing about being a girl. "Okay."  
  
They walked up the stairs in companionable silence, both thinking over the past day. They reached her door.  
  
Back under control he pulled her into the ritual goodnight hug. Happy to finally have the life he never knew he wanted, "Merry Christmas. I love you kid."  
  
"I love you too Logan." And she meant it more than she would ever let him know. "Goodnight."  
  
  
Fin  
  
  
  
Gowdie and her muse speak.  
Muse: So what have you learned?  
Gowdie: It's entirely possible I might be evil.  
Muse: Anything else?  
Gowdie: Never lock two people in a room when you don't know exactly how to get them out again.  
  
  
I know. Please don't hurt me. The good news is that is probably as angsty as I will ever get. Just remember, this is not where the story ends! Go back and read Part 3 of RD. It all works out! See, this is exactly why I wanted to publish the prequel BEFORE I ended RD. RD will have a happy ending. This ending sucks. Which do you want to read last? I thought so.  
  
Right. And now I am off to work on Part 4. I swear! It won't be immediate cause I have to do some work writing over the next week, but after that it will have my full concentration.  
  
FAQs from The Second Christmas  
  
Lindor chocolates REALLY exist. I developed a bit of a Lindor problem during my last   
set of exams. I get them at my che che la la grocery store. Really, anywhere in the same   
aisle with the Pot of Golds etc. Of course, I am in Canada. However, the Lindors are   
Swiss, so I was hoping it was safe - they would be imported in the States as well. I   
HIGHLY recommend them. The ad campaign really was a woman in a flowing red dress   
eating one as she ran her hands over her hair, face etc, and the music swelled. I thought,   
man, what a pile of cheese! But then I tried one and OH MY GOD!   
  
"Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" is a real live book by author Robert Pirsig. Found it on my Beta's shelf and knew it had to make an appearance.   
  
  
  
  



End file.
